Night had fallen. A sleek Koenigsegg tore through the darkness, racing toward the Sanctuary Retreat.
Inside the car, Cressida stared at the message Draven had sent. Her beautiful, cold face seemed coated in frost.
But then something occurred to her, and the furrow between her brows smoothed away. She rubbed her temples with slender fingers, sighing softly to herself.
He had been there two days, meant to find peace. Yet still, whenever he felt hurt or angry, he sent these dramatic, petulant words, acting out in such childish, obvious ways.
A faint, tender warmth touched her eyes.
After all these years… if he had not changed, then he had not changed. She would bear it.
The car rolled to a halt. Cressida stepped out and walked toward the main hall, dialing Draven's num
